Noodles are an integral part of Chinese culture. You can order them thick or thin, made from rice or wheat, piled high or swimming in a stew. One thing is for sure, you’ll never go wanting for noodles in China.

Our favorite noodle experience, other than our noodle ninja at the hot pot restaurant, was in the Muslim Quarter in Xi’an. Like tacquerias in Mexico (or any part of southern California), these dive-looking noodle shops are less about ambience and all about the food. Tucked in hutongs, or tight alleyways, are squat tables surrounded by cheap, plastic chairs where locals gather to drink beer and slurp noodles – our kind of spot. These eateries have baskets full of stick-pierced vegetables to choose from. After selecting your vegetables, you drop them off at the counter whereupon the white-capped Muslim “noodler” goes to work. Whipping up fresh noodles right in front of you to go with your veggies, out comes an Asian spaghetti that would make Italians proud.

Beijing is full of upscale noodle shops, too. At the eponymously named Noodle Bar, we (I should say “I”) delighted in having home-made noodles with the innards of cows – tripe, intestines and a whole lot more, a Chinese delicacy and experience to be sought out.

Steamed buns….Sounds hot, right? They are. Not to be confused with Jane Fonda’s derriere in those 80’s workout videos, these steamed buns are a traditional Chinese snack. Served in nearly every restaurant, rest stop and on almost every street corner, steamed buns are filled with either minced meat, traditionally pork, or a sweeter almond paste filling.

Because the Chinese language was a mystery to us, steamed buns were like a box of chocolates; we never knew what we were going to get. Good news was we couldn’t be disappointed, just pleasantly surprised, as they were always delicious.

Trying to master the hot pot with fellow American traveling friends in Xi'an

China’s version of fondue, hot pot experiences are meant to be shared with a good group of friends. It works like this; in the middle of the table is a hole where a “hot pot” of boiling water and oil sits.

Patrons choose from a variety of meats, vegetables and fish to put into the pot. Additionally, you can add in different spices including red chili peppers, basil and my personal favorite, the mouth-numbing Szechuan peppercorn, sending your taste buds into such confusion you’ll think it was a dose of Novocain. Hot potters throw the contents into the boiling oil mixture and after a few minutes and sips of Tsingtao beer it’s time to put your fishing skills and chopsticks to work. Fight your neighbor off and fish out what you’re after before the final step – dunking all that goodness in the spicy peanut sauce. Our Sino-based friend, Rory, said it best, “this sauce is so good, you could dunk a pair of shoelaces in it and it would taste good.”

Sharing a hot pot with friends in Beijing

If you are really lucky or in the know, your hot pot restaurant will come with its very own “noodle ninja.” This samurai noodle-maker will take a ball of dough and knead and stretch the dough into sinewy-thin noodles. Like a raver at an Ibiza nightclub, the noodleman will chuck his edible glowsticks into the boiling pot for you to enjoy with the rest of your meal (check out the video here if you need a visual explanation).

Chicken Tikka Masala is a classic Punjabi dish

Before coming to India when I thought of Indian cuisine chicken tikka masala would always come to mind. This was my go-to dish at Hema’s Kitchen, my favorite Indian restaurant in Chicago. But, while in India, many days and weeks passed before I ever even saw this on a menu.

How naïve was I? A nation of over one billion people, more than 30 separate states and therefore a wide variety of food, and I couldn’t wait to get to India to try the dish I love so much from my favorite ethnic restaurant back home.

What I learned is that Indian food in other parts of the world almost invariably hails from one state – Punjab. This is not altogether a bad thing. The northwestern state of Punjab is well-known in its own country for its tasty cuisine. But it, of course, is not all that Indian food has to offer.

Nonetheless, I was elated when we ate at our first Punjabi restaurant in India and I was able to have my still favorite Indian dish, chicken tikka masala. Chicken tikka is made up of boneless cubes of chicken cooked in a tandoor, or a clay oven, with yogurt and is cooked in a masala, a curry with a slew of spices.

Due to the slow cooking preparation, the meat is soft and melts in your mouth. The spicy curry and thick gravy give the chicken an extra kick.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Our time in Asia was coming to a close. Our journey had taken us from incredible India to the breathtaking heights of Nepal. We witnessed the natural splendor of tragic Tibet and grew wildly fascinated with Big Brother China. We lingered in lackadaisical Laos and had our hearts broken in Burma and Cambodia. We’d survived countless overnight journeys on rickety buses, blackened our lungs on one too many rickshaws and even shared a train car with rats.

After five months in Asia, only one thing was certain: this continent had blown us away!

Packing so much into the past few months, we’d saved our last ten days for pure indulgence. On a flight from Bangkok headed south we were bound for the islands of southern Thailand.

It’s not so often in life that you have the chance to sit with a map in hand and ponder over which of thirty idyllic islands has your slice of heaven written all over it. Sitting at home on our living room floor mulling over atlases and guidebooks, these were the moments we’d dreamt about. This is why we stayed in all those Friday nights, why we scoped out drink deals and routinely cooked in. This is why we got rid of TV and cable bills and laughed off all the bad jokes that came our way for those antiquated cell phones we were hanging on to. Flying over the palm-fringed beaches of this tropical paradise, I realized we were now living our dream.

After strong recommendations from several traveling friends we’d met along the way, we settled on spending all our time on the island of Koh Pha Ngan. The island is notorious for hosting the famed full moon parties, which draw nearly 10,000 visitors to the island each month to partake in every hedonistic pleasure imaginable. Looking for nothing more than sun, surf and sand, this was clearly not our draw. We had our hearts set on a secluded area of the island, along the white, sandy, remote beach of Thong Nai Pan Noi.

One flight, one bus ride, one ferry and one rickshaw ride later, and we finally arrived to our destination. Here we found a stark, white beach with piles of white ‘pillowy’ sand. The beach sits at the shores of a bay with mint-colored water and surrounded by lush forests. Ode to our new home sweet home!

We’d booked ourselves a basic beachside bungalow. The wooden hut was plain and simple, offering all the amenities two beach bums might need. We were equipped with the simple pleasures: a blossoming tree of frangipani outside our front door to shade our little haven from the sun, a bucket of water to wash the beach off our salt-water sticky feet and a ceiling fan to cool down our sun-kissed bods at night. What else could ya need?

In the life of a traveler, our days are consumed with decisions. Where will we sleep tonight? Where are we going next? How many days will we stay there? Will we need a visa? Where will we eat for breakfast? How will we get there? How much does the metro cost? Which bus do we need to take? Is this guy ripping us off? Will anyone speak English? How much do we need to tip? Where’s the closest ATM?

Our goal in southern Thailand was to take every question, every decision, out of the equation. And that’s just what we did. Our greatest challenge each day was deciding when to flip our bronzing bodies and which beachside joint served up the strongest cocktails.

When I think back on the fondest memories of my twenty eight years of life, I tend to remember the moments not days. Thinking back on our time in our Thailand paradise, these moments are so vivid…

Beginning each day lingering over heaping plates of fresh fruit…Kayaking out in the open sea over turquoise waters…Burying myself in a book while waves lapped up against me on the water’s edge. Snorkeling with schools of brightly colored fish…Runs up the cliff for breathtaking views of the bay…The smooth, citrusy taste of banana and mango shakes – my afternoon thirst quencher…Endless cocktail hours at sunset over one too many mojitos…Indulging in spicy coconut curries and king prawns the size of your head…Feet in the sand under a blanket of stars…Swimming in the ocean as monsoon rains crashed down all around me…Reminding myself over and over how lucky I am to be living this life…

Yes, this is exactly why I stayed in all those Friday nights.

Buddhist temples against a clear blue sky in Chiang Mai, Thailand

Pictures of Thailand have danced in my head ever since I caught my first case of the travel bug. The furious traffic and frenetic energy of Bangkok intrigued me. The sight of golden pagodas and taste of coconut curries excited me. And promises of pristine, desolate, white sandy beaches thrilled me.

With expectations sky-high, we wanted to devote a considerable amount of time to getting to know this so-called ‘Land of Smiles.’ As such, we used Thailand as our base in Southeast Asia, passing through Bangkok thrice and dividing up the rest of our time exploring the North and South of the country.

Immediately recognizable, Thailand was a stark contrast to its underdeveloped Laos neighbor. For better and for worse, Thailand offered many amenities we’d been missing: paved roads, well-appointed accommodation and modern trains and buses. This comes with a cost as 7-11’s and heavy traffic and pollution now joined the playing field.

Chiang Mai

Novice monks sit outside a Buddhist temple

Our first stop was Chiang Mai located in the mountains of northern Thailand. It’s the cultural capital of the country and a national treasure for Thai people. We hoped to discover a quaint town built into the mountainside, but soon learned our expectations would be given a reality check.

Chiang Mai, with a population hovering just below two million people, is more city than country, more polluted than pure and more hectic than peaceful. While golden pagodas are buzzing with streams of tangerine-clad monks, it’s also a place where traffic and whizzing mopeds are plentiful and the sex tourism thriving.

Where was the Chiang Mai travelers had raved about? Digging a little deeper into our pockets we were about to find out. A belated birthday splurge introduced us to Chiang Mai’s posh portfolio of adventures.

Enveloped by lush, mist-shrouded hills, Chiang Mai has a privileged setting. Stepping outside the city, these surroundings create an ideal backdrop for exclusive properties. We upped the ante and settled in at a delightful bed and breakfast along the river banks of the Ping River running through the city. At Baan Orapin, a 100-year old mansion turned B&B, we began to understand what Chiang Mai’s appeal was all about.

Our room at Baan Orapin B&B in Chiang Mai, Thailand

And then there was the food. It didn’t take long for us to begin to unravel this piece of the puzzle. Juice shops on every corner introduced us to the mango, banana and dragon fruit shakes that would soon become our staple. All the coconut-milk curries we’d dreamt about, however, took the backburner, as we discovered the joys of Thailand’s northern cuisine. Here, in Thailand’s cooler climate, dishes are more stew-like. Spices and herbs from the dense forests are incorporated into dishes and pickled cabbage and lime add a hint of sourness to traditionally spicy dishes. Also setting northern cuisine apart is the sticky rice served with every meal and eaten with your hands.

Enjoying the traditional cuisine of northern Thailand at Huen Phen restaurant

Smoked tomato and pepper salsa at Huen Phen restaurant

For animal lovers, Chiang Mai packs a big punch. On a visit to Elephant Nature Park (see video here), we spent a day caring for abandoned and abused elephants. Bathing, feeding and getting to know the stories of these gentle giants, we enjoyed an eye-opening day at the elephant sanctuary home to 33 rescued elephants.

Making friends with rescued elephants at Elephant Nature Park

We also visited the nearby Tiger Kingdom (see video here), where we were face to face with the massive beasts. Ryan snuggled up to a big guy and I, smiling ear-to-ear, played with three-month old tiger cubs. While we enjoyed this unique encounter, we realized there may have been some shady things going on behind closed doors. The big tigers seemed a bit lethargic and made us question if they were being tranquilized. Further, their small cages suggested they are likely mistreated and looking back we do not recommend a visit here. Your money could be well-spent elsewhere.

Loving on some baby tiger cubs

A Piece of the Pai

We made a brief detour north of Chiang Mai to the town of Pai, Thailand. We were anxious to get to know the so-called ‘mountain paradise,’ but what we discovered was more hippy commune than Thai escape. Crawling with ex-pat, dreadlock Rastafarians and filled with cafes blaring both Bobs (yes the Marley and the Dylan) this town seemed to have lost any Thai-ness it ever had.

To add to the strange aura, we had booked ourselves a room at a bizarre hotel called Spa Exotic Home. You’d think we’d been forewarned with the name of the place, but that passed us by. When we showed up at our Pai digs, we found our little, wooden bungalow was equipped with its own ‘spa.’ Our bathroom had a huge, stone tub shooting out hot, sulfur water that reeked of rotten eggs. To elevate the mood, there were paintings of water nymphs hung all over the walls of our room. If that wasn’t enough, there was a u-shaped, hot spring pool just outside our front door. The only thing rivaling the steamy waters were the Kama Sutra sculptures surrounding the pool.

The strange aura of the hot springs at Spa Exotic Home

Our time in Pai will best be remembered for tooting around on a moped. Because our hotel was so far outside of town, renting a moped was essential. Once we hopped on, we realized we’d been missing out on this quintessential Southeast Asian experience. With Ryan at the wheel, we whizzed around town like a local. Check out the video below of my first and only attempt at driving the moped.

There is something about the Thai way that leaves you wanting more. Maybe it’s the food, the smiles and warm welcome we received. Maybe it’s the abundant sunshine, natural beauty and mix of Western amenities and rich culture. Perhaps it’s a mix of all of this. Whatever it was, Thailand was beginning to wrap us around her finger and our adventures in northern Thailand only whet our appetite for more.

Few are the travelers who add Burma to their Southeast Asia itineraries. But, as we discovered, those who do are profoundly rewarded.

Because the Burmese military regime rules the country with an iron fist, they dictate where tourists can and can’t go on a visit to Burma. The government tries vehemently to tightly control interactions between foreigners and the people of Burma and the mere discussing of politics with foreigners is under penalty of imprisonment. To that end, much of the country is completely off-limits to tourists and we were only permitted to go to certain, approved regions.

To no surprise, this hindered our ability to travel freely through Burma, but what it did not inhibit was a rich and authentic experience in an often forgotten land.

Here’s a bit more on where and how we spent our time in Burma.

Yangon

Click on the video below for scenes from Yangon.

After readjusting to Western comforts in Thailand, I braced myself. We flew into Burma from Bangkok, arriving in Yangon. As the country’s largest city, Yangon (formerly Rangoon) is the former capital of Burma. Although the military government recently relocated the capital to Naypyidaw in central Burma, Yangon continues to be the country’s largest city and the most important ‘business’ center.

Immediately upon arriving, we were brought back to our days in India. The smell of stale urine and sewage prevailed and the country’s infrastructure was little to none. Most roads are unpaved and many still get around on cycle-rickshaws. Most everyone was clad in traditional dress – men and women in intricate, ankle-length sarongs they call longyis – and we found women guarding themselves from the oppressive heat with colorful parasols. Accompanying the parasols, was a thick paste caked on their faces, which really caught my attention. I soon learned this paste is made from mixing sandalwood bark with water and rubbing it on the face. It’s called thanaka and is used by Burmese women as a sign of beauty and to guard their skin from the sun.

Burmese street vendor displays traditional thanaka on her face

I found street markets bustling with every kind of item you could think of. Strong Chinese and Indian influences were visible and remannts of the British occupation were readily apparent in the crumbling colonial buildings on nearly every block. Electricity was scarce and comforts non-existent. It was then I realized two things: 1. I had to toughen up (Indian tough, as I told myself) as it wasn’t going to be an easy ride but 2. This was a special place and we would surely be rewarded.

Bagan

The ancient city of Bagan is located in the dry central plains of the country. Home to more than 4,000 Buddhist temples in a 26 mile radius, it’s one of the most spectacular religious sites in Asia, and perhaps the world. The temples were built by Burmese kings between the 9th and 13th centuries at the height of the Burmese Empire. The skyline of temples leave an indelible impression with stone and brick stupas enveloped by mountains in the distance.

We spent two days taking in the awe-inspiring temples, first on the back of a horse-drawn carriage and then on bikes. Our driver we called Midnight (for lack of being able to pronounce his name) took us down the bumpy dirt path and past the temples on a horse-cart. With no other tourists in sight, the area felt deserted, almost as if we were discovering a place left untouched for thousands of years. The following day we went out on bikes, accompanied by a young artist (and gentlest of souls) who we’d met in a temple the day before. Strangers-cum(quick)-friends. He took us to all sorts of less-discovered temples and with torch in hand, he revealed beautiful frescoes and Buddhist relics fit for a world-class museum.

Bagan was submitted to become a UNESCO heritage site but many speculate corrupt politics as the reason for the exclusion. It more than deserves a spot in my book.

Inle Lake

We’d seen the sites and met the people, but still left to discover was the natural beauty of Burma. Along the still waters of Inle Lake, it was time.

Click on the video below for scenes of Inle Lake.

Inle Lake is Burma’s largest lake and our favorite stop on our Burma adventure. Refelcting a vibrant blue sky of puffy white clouds and stilted villages, Inle Lake is quite possibly one of the most scenic places we visited on our five-month Asia journey. Here, saffron-clad monks stream barefoot and solemnly poised out of crumbling, gold pagodas at the water’s edge. Narrow wooden boats cut like glass through the water filled to the brim with women from the surrounding hill tribe communities. They sit silently with gazing eyes under colorful head scarves, holding bamboo-woven baskets full of goods to trade at market.

Rows of barefoot fisherman stand on the stern of boats. With hands free they cast out nets almost in unison into the calm waters as they row the boats with their legs. Stilted villages, floating markets and crumbling pagodas, these are the scenes of mystical Inle Lake.

On a boat ride on the still waters, cycling through teakwood villages and watching the setting sun behind silhouetted pagodas and fishing boats shimmering on the lake, we were captivated by Burma’s natural beauty. Over hot cups of joe with the Burmese while rooting on the USA in the World Cup, bumping down a dirt road on a horse cart as our driver shared his life story and learning to eat rice with our hands as our rickshaw driver joined us for a meal, we fell in love with the people. It was here we confirmed Burma would become a part of us.

A Visit to Burma from Cullen Keller on Vimeo.

Music
Artist: Beirut
Song: After the Curtain